


still with one eye open, well, all I see is you

by moonmotels



Series: Stella Rose [2]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, i just missed them ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22363171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonmotels/pseuds/moonmotels
Summary: elf misty + cordelia + stella + a school bbq
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode
Series: Stella Rose [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608871
Comments: 8
Kudos: 61





	still with one eye open, well, all I see is you

**Author's Note:**

> for the word prompts: school & bbq
> 
> [part one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906511) right here

_‘_ shaken by your beauty 

_shaken_.’

william carlos williams, _paterson_

*

From outside their locked bedroom door, a loud “ _Momma_!” startles Misty and Cordelia from where they're moving against each other in tandem, pink lips pouted in ecstasy and hands roaming each other’s bodies worshipfully.

Cordelia retracts herself backwards at the intrusive call, crying out in pain when the crown of her head whacks the headboard with heavy force. Her thighs snap together and strong muscles squeeze Misty’s hand where it’d been moving so perfectly between her legs.

“She wants you,” Cordelia winces in pain as she rubs the back of her head, already feeling the effects of a terrible headache forming. That, and her blissful morning wake up call being wrenched from her grasp.

“Nope,” Misty replies, “I can’t go out there like this.” As she refers to herself with an apathetic wave, Cordelia bites her bottom lip to keep from howling with laughter. Misty’s shirt is hanging off one shoulder exposing her bra-less chest, her fingers are _wet_ , and her pajama pants may have well been flung into space orbit somewhere because they’re nowhere to be seen.

Cordelia sighs and motions for Misty to sit up, kissing her a proper good morning. Just as she entertains the idea of letting Stella fend for herself for five minutes, her daughter calls again, and this time she sounds angry.

Misty pats Cordelia on the thigh and pushes her from the bed, reclining back on the pillows like a sinful vision. It’s terribly unfair to Cordelia that she gets to go around looking like _this_ all the time, especially when she has responsibilities and isn’t allowed to fully appreciate it every second of the day. “Go take care of her while I lay in bed and dream of a beautiful life where I can take you 24/7 without interruption.”

Cordelia childishly sticks her tongue out in response. Slipping from the room, she shuts the door behind her and pads down the hallway towards the kitchen, tying her robe secure around her waist. “Good morning, angel.” Stella is standing on her step stool, taking a box of frozen waffles from the freezer. At the sound of her mother’s voice, she scrambles down and runs towards her. Cordelia lifts her in her arms and feels herself go weightless with love.

“I asked for momma Misty,” Stella says pointedly, “Where is she?”

“Well tough luck, kid, you got me,” Cordelia hugs her a little tighter and cherishes the notion that Stella still doesn’t pull away yet. “What do you need?”

“I want her to make waffle sundaes. With the ice cream and sprinkles.”

Cordelia looks at the clock. “Baby, it’s eight in the morning. Waffle sundaes are for dessert. As a treat.”

Stella pouts as Cordelia sets her down, crossing her arms in an act of rebellion. She must have learned this from Eloise, because Coco claims she’s been doing the same exact thing in response to being told no. “You said I was good all day yesterday.” Her bottom lip quivers, and Cordelia almost caves at the utter cuteness of it all when Misty comes breezing into the kitchen.

“Is that my favorite six year old in the entire universe I hear?” Misty opens her arms wide as Stella launches herself in them, getting peppered with a dozen kisses that make her giggle uncontrollably.

When she’s put back down, Stella tugs on the hem of Misty’s shirt - now draped less _obscenely_ over her body - and asks, “Can you make your waffle sundaes? Pretty please?” She bats her eyelashes and must know they work like a charm, because Misty finds herself going to reply with full confirmation when she catches Cordelia shaking her head _no_ out of the corner of her eye. 

“I don’t think we have ice cream, or I would, lovebug.”

“I just saw ice cream in the freezer,” Stella answers, very matter of fact.

 _Fuck_. Misty looks at Cordelia for help, who merely shrugs a shoulder with a look that says, _this is your problem now_. 

“ _Oh_ ,” she exclaims, “I know what we can do. How about at your school barbecue we'll let you have extra dessert. How’s that sound?”

Stella whips her head around to look at her mother for approval, brown eyes sparkling in the early morning rays of sunlight scattered across the tile floor. Cordelia can’t say no to that, just like she can’t say no to the other celestial being that occupies the space in her bed and heart. It’s not easy, trying to lay your foot down when the two people in her home are so stupidly hard to resist. 

“Yes,” she confirms, “I even heard Eloise and Auntie Coco are bringing their brownie cookies to the party.” She thanks God this tides Stella over as she happily goes back to wrecking havoc in the living room. Their cat, Dexter, scampers out of her way and darts back down the hallway, not used to the rambunctious child he now shares a living space with.

**

Four months ago, Misty; her now fiancée, (the thought still makes Cordelia swoon) had moved her few belongings in with Stella and Cordelia. In addition to the essentials, Misty brought along her seven year old cat, who Cordelia, by all means, is trying her hardest to bond with. They’re not exactly best friends yet, but small efforts are being made from both parties. Amidst wedding planning and prepping for a life together, they’ve taken to raising Stella in an easy going partnership. The only flaw they’ve come across so far was breaking the news that Misty is not, in fact, a real elf, but tears were quickly soothed over by waffle sundaes. 

Of course. 

With minimal help from Cordelia, mostly just sweet words of praise mixed with awe, Misty had opened her flower shop a little over two months ago. She’d kept the grand opening a secret, surprising both Cordelia and Stella by naming it 'Stella Rose’ after her admittedly favorite child. Cordelia had cried, of course, kissing Misty under the brand new sign like her life depended on it. Now on days where Cordelia works late, Stella spends her free time with Misty at the shop where she's taught everything she needs to know.

**

Cordelia turns to start the coffee machine, pouring a mug of hot water for Misty to have her tea before making her own cup of coffee. Misty accepts the mug with a smile, pecking Cordelia on the cheek and murmuring, “I still have to make up for earlier. Later?” Pulling away wickedly, her grin is devious and smug.

“What’s wrong with plopping her in front of the tv and putting on Paw Patrol for an hour?” Cordelia closes her eyes to relish the idea, her brain filled with images of just how well she can make it up to her. 

Misty snorts, knowing Cordelia better than she knows herself. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, we still need to make the pasta salad.” Somehow, against her better judgement, Cordelia signed herself up to bring food to Stella’s school on a Saturday for their annual back to school barbecue. This just means being nice to pretentious parents that are pretending to be friendly under false pretenses for their children. At least this year, Cordelia has Misty to drag along. It might even be a miracle if Coco shows up at all.

Pulling the ingredients from the fridge, Cordelia sets to work while Misty makes Stella a regular waffle and pours her orange juice. The rest of the morning is easy, a perfect encapsulation of everything Cordelia had ever dreamed of. The butterflies in her stomach lay dormant after months of being in Misty’s presence, but they’re always there to give a sweet flutter when Misty leans over to swipe syrup off Stella’s chin or smile slyly at Cordelia when she thinks she’s not looking. It’s perfect harmony, she believes, and simultaneously a terrible shame she hasn’t known Misty her entire life.

Loading up the car with extra blankets and the large bowl of her salad, Cordelia watches with pangs of utter happiness as Misty locks the door behind her and takes Stella’s hand to skip across the sidewalk. The domesticity always speaks volumes to Cordelia, leaving her with an ache that settles deep in her chest, right behind her heart. 

She tries her hardest to explain it to Misty, but she never not sounds like a complete lunatic. It’s like this: if Misty was the moon Cordelia has happily decided to reside on, it’s perfect bliss except for the fact that she’s always missing the moonlight. She can never get enough of Misty and will never be satisfied. 

On the ride to the school, Misty reaches over to lace their fingers together, instantly soothing Cordelia’s ever-persistent nerves. “What’s botherin’ you?” She knows Cordelia, can tell simply from her body language that there’s a problem.

“I just get so nervous about going to these things,” she admits, “all of these parents live picture perfect lives with perfect jobs and perfect marriages and perfect kids. It’s overwhelming.”

“I’d reckon our life is pretty sweet,” Misty smiles gently, rubbing her thumb over Cordelia’s smooth knuckle, “don’t you think?”

“It is now, but I just feel like I’m forever labeled as the single mom who has a career and barely any time for my daughter’s school events.”

Misty twists in her seat to see that Stella has knocked out in her car seat, her mouth adorably slack in sleep. “Delia, you are by far the best mother I’ve ever met. She’s the smartest kid I know. Do you know how much she adores you? You’re all she talks about when it’s just me n’ her.”

“I am?”

“Swear on my life.”

Cordelia wipes a lone tear away and hitches a breath. “I love you. You make me feel so lucky.”

“I love you too, you big cry baby. Now tell me which parents I should avoid.”

Cordelia launches into her spiel about the parents they’ll meet, providing Misty with details about which who is decently nice, who’s okay to speak to in small capacities, and who she’ll need to avoid altogether if she wants to keep her sanity. “Clarissa is Ethan’s mom, and she’ll try to rope you into her pyramid scheme if you spend more than two seconds talking to her,” Cordelia explains, “and definitely avoid her ex-husband Mark, he’ll try to screw any woman that glances in his direction. You’ll spot the PTA moms from a mile away, they travel in packs and will try to win you over with false-flattery and asinine compliments.”

Misty snorts, reaching into her bag for a handful of almonds despite the massive amounts of food they’ll soon be eating. At Cordelia’s incredulous stare she asks, “What? It’s fuel for dealing with these people.”

Laughing wholeheartedly, Cordelia amends, “Right, yes. Anyway, your best choices are sticking with Coco and I.”

Stella waits patiently as they park at the school, her tiny feet bouncing in excitement against the car seat she loathes being stuck in. Misty unhooks her while Cordelia unloads the back, the trio following hoards of parents and children out towards the open field. Stella spots Eloise on the playground and darts away before Cordelia can even fathom the idea of getting her to put on a little sunscreen. Coco waves them over from where she’s stationed herself at the dessert table, a tiny plate in hand loaded with sweets.

“God, you guys,” Coco kisses Cordelia on the cheek before wrapping Misty in a one armed hug, “I thought you’d left me to fend for myself.”

“Traffic,” Misty says brightly, lying through her teeth. It wasn’t exactly her fault Cordelia had sent Stella to her room to dress herself, using that fifteen minute advantage to bend Misty over the counter top and leave her just as titillated as Cordelia had been that morning.

“I know you’re lying, but you’re here now so I don’t care. Take this,” she hands Misty a plate, “you need to try this cheeseball some third grader’s mom made before it’s gone. It’s fucking orgasmic.”

Coco leads Misty away, leaving Cordelia to chuckle to herself. She sets her pasta salad up, debating what she wants to eat for a long moment when there’s the soft press of a hand on the small of her back. Naturally leaning into the touch, she brightens up and turns to face Misty, her face falling when she realizes it’s Mark, Ethan’s dad.

“Cordelia Goode,” he says lecherously, “long time no see. Didn’t expect you to be at one of these things with all that work you have.”

Her eyes shut and it takes her a good five seconds to gather a reply. “Hi, Mark. How’s that nineteen year old girlfriend you had last year?”

Mark laughs in her face, a sound that makes her skin crawl and the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “Dumped her when she decided that a college two thousand miles away was more important than our relationship.”

“How insane.”

“Speaking of, you seeing anyone? You’re too pretty to be raising that kid alone. What’s her name? Luna or something?”

“ _Stella_ ,” she spits out, her fingers uncontrollably forming into a fist. She wonders if Misty loves her enough to bail her out of jail.

“Stella,” he repeats, “odd name. Cute kid though. Hey, I was wondering if you’d want to get a drink sometime? I'll have my assistant get us a spot at that new outdoor bar around the corner from Bourbon.”

 _I’d rather fling myself into oncoming traffic. Shave my hair off. Buy a one-way ticket to the middle of nowhere and live off the fucking land by myself._ Just as she opens her mouth to tell him off in a myriad of insults, she feels a slim arm wrap around her waist and pull her back from the ledge.

“Hey there,” Misty says in her sweet tone, “I was just looking for you.”

“Who’s this?” Mark smirks, his eyes flicking back and forth like he’s trying to decide if they’re good friends or something more that he can weasel his way into.

“I’m her wife,” Misty greets herself. “You must be that single dad I keep hearin’ about who tries to hump every woman that walks the earth.” Her laugh is fake, exaggerated, and it has Cordelia in awe, ready to take her home.

Mark’s expression turns quickly to something of shock, unaware if Misty is joking or not. He catches himself, trying to play it off as if she is. He jokes back, “Well, don’t tell anyone but your wife here,” he says this indignantly, “was next on my to-do list.” 

“Shame. It was so great to meet you,” Misty tugs Cordelia away by the belt loop of her jeans. Cordelia pauses mid-way to the appetizer table to say, “You called me your wife.”

Misty pops a pretzel in her mouth and shrugs nonchalantly, sticking another pretzel past Cordelia’s lips. “Figured we should get used to it. Is that alright? You looked just about ready to let out a war cry n’ snap his neck clean off.”

“Yeah,” Cordelia chews, “it’s more than alright.” Nothing in this world, no one tangible thing could ever prepare her for being married to God’s greatest gift to earth, but still, she plans to try. 

“Okay, good. Load your plate up, babe, the PTA moms love your pasta salad. Better hurry ‘fore they come back.”

Strolling up to the blanket Coco has brought for the picnic, Cordelia settles delicately on the ground while Misty just plops herself down in a flurry of long limbs. Their knees knock together, but Cordelia loves it. Loves being connected to Misty in the smallest ways. Like in the mornings when they brush their teeth side by side and Misty slides up behind her to grab the hand towel, or in the evenings when Cordelia reads Stella her book in bed and Misty lies on the opposite side, their fingers laced together over her head. Every little thing; every touch, look, and shared smile has Cordelia constantly swept away in the depths of true, unfathomable love. 

“So I was asking Misty earlier why you two were late getting here but I never got a proper response,” Coco deadpans, sticking her fork into a piece of broccoli.

“Don’t worry about it, Co.”

Misty stifles her laughter into a bread roll. “ _Someone_ couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Ain’t that the first rule in school? I never pegged her as a rule breaker.”

Her and Coco share a look and burst into laughter, leaving Cordelia to rub her temple in aggravation.

“Oh, let me live vicariously through your sex life, please,” Coco pleads, “I’m going through a dry spell.”

“How long is that, Co? A week?” Cordelia bites into her gluten and fat free sandwich one of the other moms made and cringes at how utterly tasteless it is. Misty takes a cookie off her plate and wordlessly hands it to her, which she accepts graciously.

“For your information, it’s been a week and three days, if you must know.”

“I’ll be praying for you,” Misty nods very seriously.

“So was it good?” Coco is just pushing her best friend’s buttons at this point.

Just as Cordelia goes to tell her to _fuck off_ in somewhat friendlier terms, a sharp cry has her world crashing down around her. She knows that sound. Recognizes it as belonging to her six year old. She feels her head turning in slow motion towards the playground where Stella had been playing, where she is now lying flat on the ground and not moving.

Cordelia’s feet kick up dirt as she races towards the worst thing she’s seen in forty one years. She doesn’t remember the four seconds it takes to cross the few hundred feet, only aware of her daughter and the crowd of children gathered around her small body.

She drops to her knees, ignoring the pain that ricochets through her body when the wood chips dig into her skin there. Pulling Stella into her arms, Cordelia cries, “What’s wrong? What happened?” Coco is right behind her, dragging Eloise away and wondering the same thing. She hears Eloise explain it as best she can for a six year old, telling Coco, “She was just climbing up the slide and tripped off the side. Is she gonna be okay?”

Dazed, Stella tries to sit up and falls limp in her mother’s arms. “I fell, mommy,” and then a quiet, “it hurts all owver.” 

She starts bawling, her cheeks red and blotchy. There’s dirt stuck in her hair and she looks so lost it has Cordelia on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. Her heart is beating too fast in her chest, making it hard to breathe. _In, out. In, out._ She swivels her head around to screech for Misty, but she’s already on her knees in the grass beside them. 

”Get up, Delia, we have to take her to the ER. _Now,_ ” Misty snaps Cordelia out of her motionless state, lifting her up by the elbow. Stella; still wailing, is deadweight in Cordelia’s arms as she stands on shaky legs and carries her frantically towards where they parked the car. 

“I, I - need my keys, and the bowl, and the -”

“I have the keys. Coco’s going to bring our stuff home, okay? I need you to focus.” Misty is extremely level headed, keeping Cordelia at a mellower level than she’d be if she were alone. She cradles Stella close in the backseat while Misty drives, breaking every traffic law known to man.

The second she throws the car in park, Cordelia is halfway out the door and across the parking lot. Thankfully, the attendant at the front ushers them through immediately, where Cordelia drops Stella on a hospital bed and begins hyperventilating. Her daughter looks so tiny and fragile on the stark white sheets that Cordelia would be crawling next to her if she wasn’t getting hooked up to a monitor by some nurse who looks like she just graduated high school.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Heart rate is a little high,” the nurse muses, “but we see this in cases of stress and injury. There’s no sign of swelling anywhere on her body, but the doctor will be in momentarily to check, okay? He’ll take care of that boo boo on your arm too,” she tells Stella.

Cordelia’s eyes automatically gravitate towards the cut she’d been too preoccupied to notice earlier. It’s good she hadn’t seen it because she really wouldn’t have been able to move in the catatonic state it’d have put her in. A violent wail reaches the back of her throat, but without waiting for Cordelia’s reply, the nurse leaves the room. Misty places a gentle palm on her bouncing leg, murmuring, “She’ll be fine, alright?” At Cordelia’s tearful nod, Misty moves her stool over to the other side of the bed and takes Stella’s tiny hand, rubbing her thumb over it soothingly. Stella flutters her eyes shut, exhausted after her day. She’s asleep in no time, putting Cordelia at just the slightest bit of ease.

A doctor, thankfully one that looks old enough to vote, comes shuffling in with Stella’s paperwork. He lowers his voice when he notices she’s asleep, asking, “Which of you is the mother?”

“Me,” Cordelia speaks, her voice wobbly.

“Tell me about what happened.” The doctor is poking and prodding Stella, making it hard for her to form a sentence. He examines her arm, cleaning off the cut and bandaging it with precision.

“She was on the playground, and, and - I didn’t see but her friend says she was climbing up the slide and fell backwards. I think she hit her head.” 

“Any complaints about pain anywhere else?”

“She said it hurt everywhere, but I think the wind got knocked out of her. She was acting like it was hard to keep her eyes open in the car.”

“Okay,” he replies, kicking the brakes off the hospital bed, “I’m going to get her in for an MRI, I have a feeling it’s a mild concussion. Shouldn’t be long, maybe twenty minutes.”

Cordelia’s throat closes up, and she finds it difficult to breathe for the hundredth time this afternoon. _Oh, God._ “Is she, um, going to be alright?”

“We'll have you outta here within the hour, it’s just a routine check. She should be okay. You can wait right here, if you’d like.”

Cordelia understands that’s more of a demand than a suggestion. The privacy curtain settles once they leave the room, and she breaks down into sobs that wrack her entire frame. Misty is up and off her stool immediately, crouching down to take Cordelia into her arms. “Hey, shh, you heard him, she’s gonna be fine.”

“What if she’s _not_?” she wails.

“You can’t think like that, alright? He didn’t seem too concerned ‘bout it.”

“But she’s all alone in that room, and I wasn’t there when she fell, and it’s -”

“Hey,” Misty knocks their foreheads together, forcing eye contact. “look at me. Stella is going to be fine. She’s a strong little kid, she probably just got the wind knocked out of her like you said. I need you to trust me.”

Cordelia blinks back fresh tears so she can look into Misty’s eyes. Sometimes, on stressful nights, looking at her is the only thing that can calm Cordelia down off whatever cliff she’s teetering on. Today is no exception. “I trust you. I do.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, would I?”

“No, never.”

They keep this position in the cramped hospital room, only pulling apart when a different nurse wheels Stella’s bed back in. Her daughter looks worn out, but her eyes are open and she greets them happily. “Look, mommy, this is Kyle. He let me have a lollipop because I didn’t cry in the big scary machine.”

She kisses Stella’s forehead, tasting the saltiness of her own tears that drip down off her nose. Breathless laughter escapes when Stella crinkles her eyes shut. “You are so brave. Did you say thank you?”

“Thank you, Kyle.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but you’ve been my favorite patient all day.”

Stella accepts that happily and goes back to devouring her lollipop.

Kyle speaks to Cordelia and Misty now, telling them, “Everything looked good on the MRI. She has a very minor concussion, but the side effects should be lessening by the hour. She’ll probably go right to sleep when you’re home, but we ask that you monitor her every four to six hours. She may complain of light headaches, but like I said, it was minor. I wouldn’t worry too much. Sound good?”

Cordelia could kiss the ground he walks on. “God, yes, thank you so much. She’ll be fine?”

“She’ll be alright,” he confirms. “Let me get your paperwork and I’ll have you on your way.” He leaves quietly, allowing them to fawn over Stella.

“Hi, baby,” Misty is at her side instantly, “you feel better?”

“Hi, momma. My tummy hurts a little.”

“It’s ‘cause we didn’t get any sweets in ya,” she pokes Stella’s stomach gently, earning her giggle that rings like a chorus of angels to Cordelia’s ears.

Once the paperwork was complete, Cordelia takes both halves of her heart home.

“Mommy?” Stella sniffles quietly from the backseat, dried tears still leaving streaks down her cheeks. Cordelia’s heart clenches as she looks back in the rearview mirror.

“Yes?” _Whatever you want, it’s yours. I’ll buy out the entire Disney franchise if it’ll make you feel better._

“I’m hungry.”

“Misty’s going to make you as many waffle sundaes as you want when we get home, okay?”

Stella thinks about this for a moment before breaking into a tiny grin. “Okay. I love you, mommy. I love you too, momma.”

Cordelia begins crying again, blurring her vision so rapidly she has to blink them away to focus on the road. “We love you, Stell. So much, my angel.” Misty nods her head in agreement, giving them both a soft smile and a light squeeze on Cordelia’s upper thigh. She’s quieter than normal, processing today’s events now that Stella is deemed fine.

For as calm as Misty has kept herself, Cordelia knows that today has taken a toll on her. For the short period of time she’s been in Stella’s life, she’s made a remarkable impact on her. Their bond is unlike anything Cordelia has ever seen Stella make before, so it’s especially striking to her that Misty possesses the strength to stay level headed while Cordelia all but broke down completely. 

Once home, Misty carries her in the house and into her bedroom, where she promises to be back momentarily with her sundae. Stella, all too excited to eat in bed, promises to wait patiently. In the kitchen, Cordelia sits at the island and calls Coco to update her, giving her word that Stella will be back to her normal self tomorrow and that she and Eloise should come over for brunch and a movie day in the morning.

As Stella sits up carefully and devours her dessert happily, Misty and Cordelia snuggle up on either side of her. Misty reads her favorite book _Where The Wild Things Are_ , even using different voices for each character. It delights her endlessly, but Cordelia can hear her breathing even out towards the end. 

When Misty finishes quietly, Cordelia carefully extracts herself from the small twin bed and stands, taking Misty’s hand. She presses a soft kiss on Stella’s forehead, whispering, “I love you,” and then, “goodnight, love.” They leave Stella clutching her stuffed alligator and their cat, Dexter, curled at her feet as if keeping watch over her.

Gripping Misty’s hand tighter, she leads her from the room and down the short hallway. The walk is silent, unrushed, but once on the inside of their bedroom Cordelia shifts gears. She takes her pants off first, placing them carefully atop the plush chair. Her shirt is next, unbuttoned slowly, calculatedly as she knows she has a one woman audience. Misty watches with rapt attention against the closed door, the lump in her throat dissipating with every tantalizing inch of skin Cordelia reveals. With that article of clothing finally off, she wastes no time in crawling into the large bed, leaving Misty practically salivating.

“Do you know how much it turns me on to see you in protective mode?” Cordelia’s voice is dripped in lust. Her skin is glowing softly from the moonlight peaking through sheer curtains, adding to Misty's constant belief she is not of this earth; has come from a place far beyond the gates of Heaven where only their more immaculate angels reside.

Misty curls her knuckles under the hem of her shirt and lifts it, revealing the smooth skin of her torso that is temptation personified for Cordelia. The white lace of her bralette cups the swell of her breasts so scandalously it has Cordelia’s fingers twitching to reach up and have her hands on them. As if it’s their first time, Cordelia is antsy, wants to have her mouth and hands all over her body. Every inch. It’s always like this, though. Each second with Misty is wildly different and more exciting than the last.

Misty takes her time, drawing out this exquisite two-person dance they’re doing. She hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt and pushes it down so luxuriously slowly that it has Cordelia’s heartbeat stuttering in her chest cavity.

She’s left in simple cotton panties that never fail to render Cordelia speechless. Misty could make anything look good, she's sure of it.

Cordelia's voice, when she finds it, is low and gritty as she drawls, “Come here.” It’s spoken more of a demand than a request, but Misty, ever so intuitive, complies immediately. 

Two strong hands cup her lower back and pull her flush, chest to chest. Misty sighs out at the contact, reaching one hand up to flick at Cordelia’s nipple through the thin fabric. She bucks into the touch, biting Misty’s bottom lip in the process with an exaggerated whine. The pulse of arousal demands immediate attention and relief from Cordelia, but she manages to shake her head and guide her to sit in her lap so that Misty’s back is pressed against her chest.

“Let me take care of you,” Cordelia’s voice is coy in the shell of Misty’s ear, where she nips just hard enough to send a shiver through both their bodies.

“Wouldn’t bother me none,” Misty breathes, shifting so that her legs are spread apart atop the floral printed bed sheets. She sucks in a breath when the cold air hits her naked skin, spreading tiny goosebumps over her flesh that Cordelia so badly wants to chase with her mouth.

At the intoxicating paradise between her legs, Cordelia starts off slow, just light caresses on the inside of her thighs. It has Misty whining, shifting subtly in an effort for more, more, _more_. Two fingers press at her clit through her panties, leaving Cordelia to inhale sharply when the pads of her fingertips come back wet. 

“Please don’t tease me,” Misty begs, and that’s something to celebrate because she _never_ does that. Cordelia snaps the elastic cautiously, just once, just enough to hear her cry out again.

Her fingers glide easily through wetness, dipping lower but not committing to the touch. She wants to keep Misty in her arms like this all night, savoring the idea that they’ve given themselves the long stretch of forever. And if she can have Misty at her mercy for a while, what’s the point of rushing it? Misty, though, doesn’t seem interested in waiting that long. She groans, canting her hips up, chasing that simultaneous mix of saccharine sweet pleasure and pain. Cordelia presses forward, dipping her long fingers inside and stroking diligently.

Misty’s hand flies up behind them to grasp the headboard, her grip white knuckled and strong.

“ _Christ_ , Delia, right there,” her lips are pouted in a silent cry, eyes screwed shut as Cordelia fucks her just the way she likes. It has her toes curling, one hand cupping her own breast to tweak a hardened nipple. Cordelia bats her hand away and takes over, pushing her ever so indulgently towards the edge. Her hips rise and fall with every thrust, aching for the relief Cordelia gives her.

Cordelia’s mouth is in her ear whispering how good she feels and her fingers are moving quicker and the heel of her palm is rubbing _perfectly_ against her clit and -

Misty takes in one more deep gulp of air; her chest startlingly raw, and she’s coming hard all over herself and Cordelia’s hand.

If you asked her to describe the following moments, they’d be something along the lines of delirium, celestial, or euphoric. Her body hums with immeasurable gratification, adding to the bliss of Cordelia lovingly pushing her hair aside and sloppily kissing up and down the length of her neck. Those _fucking_ fingers are still inside her, making Misty keen with every lazy thrust.

“ _Mm_ ,” she says when her muscles finally begin to release her from its tight grip, “s’good.”

Cordelia slings a possessive arm around her torso, her breath coming in strenuous gasps like Misty’s. The rest of the afterglow is quiet, plagued only by the hum of the air conditioner and the sound of Cordelia’s lips kissing every place she can reach. The nape of Misty’s neck, her shoulder, the place behind her ear that earns her a soft whine.

“I want you to ride me. Let me see you.” 

The request comes from nowhere, but Cordelia finds herself automatically complying. She presses Misty down amongst the pillows they'd picked out together, takes a moment to rake her eyes over her long limbs, smiling at what she finds. Hastily slipping her panties off, she turns back around to find Misty waiting for her patiently like a dream plucked straight from her subconscious. The only thing missing, she believes, is the halo above her head.

Misty shifts to a more comfortable position on her back, pulling Cordelia over to straddle her thigh. She immediately grinds down, both hands flying to frame Misty’s head for stability. Riding into rhythm, she whimpers as Misty deviously hikes her knee higher.

“You look so good like this for me,” Misty comments airily, “all wet n’ bent outta shape.”

One of her hands travels up Cordelia’s waist, teasing a nipple with a thumb that darts out stealthily. Whatever response Cordelia has gets lost in the back of her throat with a loud squeak.

It doesn’t take her long, not after touching Misty and hearing the filthy praises coming from between her lips. She works her hips harder, sliding her clit just rough enough to send divine pulses down the ridges of her spine. With Misty’s hand on the dip of her waist and those eyes staring at her so reverently, Cordelia comes on her leg, body buzzing in absolute exhilaration. It takes her a while to come down from the high, feeling only pangs of sinful ecstasy and Misty’s hands trailing over her soft skin as if worshipping a deity.

She gracefully unmounts her leg and kisses Misty with all the force left in her body. Brushing their noses together, she blinks her eyes shut in utter content. Softly, she says, “Thank you for today. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“You would have pulled it together, you’re the best mom I know,” Misty kisses her again, adding, “and definitely the hottest.”

Cordelia rolls her eyes, tugging the sheets up and around them. It settles over their warm bodies like the first blanket of snow on the lawn, draping them in comfort and security. Their legs tangle together perfectly like the last piece of a puzzle. It’s satisfying. The dull ache in Cordelia’s heart that longs for Misty’s embrace every hour of the day is placated.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments after the streets have settled and long after Misty succumbs to sleep, Cordelia lies awake and just thinks. Thinks about what kind of glorified saint she’d been in a past life to deserve this gift in her bed, thinks about how utterly insane it is that she can love somebody as much as she loves Misty. It’s heady, the rush of emotion she gets every time she watches Misty sleep peacefully. Or do anything, if she was being honest. Sometimes, when it’s exceptionally quiet, she thinks she’ll wake Misty with how loud her heart beats for her. Every pump of blood through her system is for Misty and Misty only, a personalized rhythm that spreads infinite love coursing through her veins. 

“Mist?”

In her half-asleep state, she mumbles, “Hm?” nuzzling deeper into Cordelia’s warmth.

“I love you.”

Without opening her eyes, Misty gives her a lopsided smile that has Cordelia’s heart fluttering.

“Until death do us part, babe. Go to sleep.”

So she does.

**Author's Note:**

> hello HI yes i really just missed this stupid cute family:-)!
> 
> i really love writing but i'm?? broke so if y'all ever want something specific (smut, fluff, whATeveR) i will write it for like $5 ok just send me a DM and we'll work some shit out
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/moonmotels1) / [tumblr](http://moonmotels.tumblr.com)
> 
> thanks love yall


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